Hands of Fate
by ZzzShiroNeko
Summary: Used to be Unusual Beginnings Vernon Dursley left Harry Potter in front of an orphanage… and the boy is adopted by exDeath Eaters SURE, ex. Now he's 17... a look into the life of Harry Potter AKA Henri Chase. Alternate Universe, OC


**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and not copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Disclaimer in Layman's Terms:** Harry Potter, the characters and the plot do NOT belong to me. Just this fanfic, and the original characters mentioned in it. Thank you.

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UNUSUAL BEGINNINGS Prologue - The Beginning of the End

October 31, 1981

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The crisp late-autumn breeze howled in the streets of Godric's Hollow, propelling dried leaves loose from the branches from which they had once hung. Bits and pieces of trash and dirt swirled with the leaves, spinning into miniaturized tornados. Tree trunks bent as their branches swayed back and forth with the direction of the wind. Menacing shadows crept upon walls, haunting everything they touched with the curse of darkness. 

The occupants of the surrounding houses seemed to have an utter disregard for the weather for, as their fireplaces continued to crackle from the glowing embers of red-hot logs, they remained warm. If they were not warm enough, they sat by the fire sipping mugs of hot tea and cocoa, or drowned themselves in throat-burning liquors.

One particular house in Godric's Hollow did not require much heating though. Its oven had been running for the past few hours and besides, the family living there was a little more oblivious to cold than the average family. This particular residence housed a Wizarding family. A very important one indeed.

The contents of their steaming-hot oven sizzled as the mouth-watering aroma of roast lamb and mint, garlic mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables filled the whole house. The clinking of the silver utensils against ceramic plates could be heard over the fast-paced jazz melody playing from an old gramophone. The incomprehensible gurgles of a baby boy echoed from the room adjacent to the dining room as the words of his worried mother comforted him.

"Hush now, Harry," she said, in that calming voice that only mothers seem to know about. "Your bedtime was an hour ago and you are still wide-awake. You need go to sleep."

The baby giggled --as if he understood what his mother had just said--and bounced about in her arms. As the music from the other room lowered in volume, the boy's father walked towards his wife and son, and kissed them both on the cheeks.

"James!" she protested as the boy's father took him in his arms. "I am trying to calm him down and here you are waking him up more!"

"Whooo!" howled James as he tossed Harry up in the air. "Are you having fun, Harry? Weeeeeeh!"

"James, if he wakes up earlier than usual, you are the who will wake up and take care of him!"

She took his big grin as a yes before shaking her head in amusement. She headed towards the kitchen to see if their dinner was ready to be served. She stirred the potatoes and the vegetables, turned the burners off and removed the pots from the heat before checking on the oven.

James settled baby Harry in his crib, kissing the boy's forehead before heading towards the kitchen. He allowed Lily to ladle the vegetables and the potatoes on serving dishes before he started to carve the lamb. When all was set and ready, they carried the dishes to the dining room and sat down at opposite sides of the table.

In the middle of the hearty meal, James reached for a bottle of red wine chilling in an ice bucket across from him. He uncorked the stopper and poured the wine into tall champagne glasses.

They continued to eat in silence, like an old couple who already knew each other so well that dialogue did not seem quite necessary. But that was not the case at all. James knew that they both had something on their minds, and he needed only reassurance that it was a fact.

"What is wrong, Lily?" he asked, after she settled his wine glass down. "You seem quiet tonight."

"It is nothing," she said. "Nothing really."

"Lily," he repeated, his voice filled with worry. "Tell me. Please tell me."

She sighed. He was sure it was a sign of defeat. She took a deep breath in, as if trying to postpone her words and to gather as much strength as she could before asking the question that had been plaguing her mind the whole day.

"Are we really safe, James?" she asked as she rubbed her palms together. "I mean, I know that the Fidelius Charm works quite well. Otherwise, I would not have agreed to use it on ourselves. And I trust Peter with our lives. I thought he was the best choice for our Secret Keeper, after Sirius, of course. Still, I can not help but worry."

James reached over across the table and held Lily's hands in his.

"I admit that I worry about that too, Lily. But Godric's Hollow is the last place Voldemort will ever come to look for us. First of all, it is a Muggle settlement. Second of all, we are under the protection of the Fidelius Charm. And third, we have the best friends in the world, who would rather put themselves in danger than see us come to harm." He paused. "But I suppose you worry about this a lot because of what Dumbledore said."

"That is partly the reason," Lily said, her eyes filling with tears. "Of all the babies in the world, why ours? Why our Harry? Why does Voldemort have to see our baby as a threat?"

James walked to where Lily sat and knelt by her feet. He wiped the stray teardrop that ran down her face before moving closer towards her and hugging her.

"I do not know why, Lily. Nor does anyone, for that matter," he stood up straight and continued. "But it was our destiny to be the parents of the one who will face the Dark Lord."

"How will we know if he will succeed, James? Nobody ever said that Harry would win."

"That is one part of the Prophecy that only time will tell."

Lily headed towards the crib of the already sleeping Harry. She just stood by him –James beside her– and just watched the infant sleep.

"I do not want this future for him, James. I want him to grow up, safe and happy."

"I know, dear."

"The reason we joined the Order of the Phoenix right out of school in the first place was because we thought before we would start a family, the Dark Lord would have been captured. That his Death Eaters would have been dismantled. That the world would be a much safer place. But we have not succeeded in defeating Voldemort and still we had Harry. We brought him into this world even though we knew it was not as safe as we wanted it to be. The day I gave birth to him, we feared that if something were to happen to either of us during one of our missions he would have to live without parents."

"And that very same day, we decided to name Sirius as his godfather."

"Do not get me wrong, I still believe Sirius was the best choice. But the fact is that I prefer to be with you and be able to see Harry grow up to be what he is meant to be."

"I want that too, Lily," whispered James as he touched Lily's shoulders. "As does any loving parent out there."

"But you know, sometimes, when I think about it, I regret having Harry."

"What?" he exclaimed, both in anger and surprise. "Lily!"

"I did not mean it the way you are thinking. I love Harry and I would not exchange him for any other child in the world. But sometimes, I think about what could have been. What if we had only waited a little bit longer to have him? What if he had been born earlier or later than he was supposed to? If that were the case, Harry would not have been the boy Voldemort is looking for. If we have had him months or even weeks later, he would not have been a part of the Prophecy at all."

James closed his eyes and steadied himself before continuing.

"I think about the consequences of all our actions myself. I reminisce about our younger days, the things I did or did not do. The bad things, mostly. Sometimes I think that a certain higher power is punishing me for all the wrongs I did. For all the students I picked on. For all the egos I deflated. Maybe if I was nicer or wiser or maybe a little bit less of a troublemaker this would not have happened to me. And to you, and Harry too."

"But I would not have met you if the circumstances were different."

"I know. I regret many things I have done and not done. But I will never regret marrying you and having a family with you. It was our fate to be together, Lily."

Lily sniffled. "Along with this fate is our son's curse."

"If it is meant to be, Lily, it is meant to be. There is nothing much we can do about it. We are doing the best we can. We have hidden ourselves and did what we could to keep Voldemort from finding us. If it is meant to be, then it is meant to be."

"Let it be."

"Nothing bad will happen to us, Lily," assured James as he held her tight. "I promise you that. Have faith. Sirius was right. Peter was a good choice for a Secret Keeper."

Lily smiled at him weakly.

Faith, she said to herself. Is that all we have now, James? Faith that we have rested into the hands of one friend. A friend that I am not quite sure will protect us the best he can.

"Lily?"

"Yes, James?"

"Do you want to play a game of chess? It will keep our minds off this worry."

"Sure."

For the rest of the night, she hid her lack of confidence and just took pleasure in the time she had left to spend with her family.

* * *

_November 1 - The night after:

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_

As birds slept atop their treetop nests, the seemingly insomniac owls were hard at work, flying tirelessly as the autumn breeze blew them out of their intended path. Even if the residents of Privet Drive had not been sleeping soundly in their own bedrooms, they would not have heard these nocturnal creatures, for the flutter of their wings had been drowned by the whistling of the unsympathetic gusts of wind. But the autumn weather decided to calm down and eventually silenced so as to make way for the certain important few… to the Wizarding World at least.

The figure of a tall, cloaked man appeared amongst the shadows and started to head towards the middle of the well-lit street. He halted abruptly and stepped back into the shadows again before pulling out of his pocket a small item that resembled a lighter.

The lights from lampposts soared out towards him like eager fireflies and flew straight into the item in his hand. After the darkness cloaked the streets, the man walked towards the front of a house where as a tabby cat sat by the fence. The cat meowed quietly and transformed into her real self: an old lady.

A conversation between the two ensued. The man offered the woman a small item, which she readily refused. There was a rustling of plastic candy wrapping, followed by more talking. They stopped abruptly when the roaring of a very noisy motorcycle engine and its blinding headlights did not allow much for an intelligible conversation.

The overgrown, bushy-haired passenger got off his motorcycle, walked towards the older folk, and held what seemed like a bundle of blankets towards them. They both bent forward to take a look at what the blankets wrapped, and smiled: the baby they had been searching for was fine. They let out a sigh of relief before worry came over them.

Again the two elders argued as the motorcycle rider stood beside them, sniffling loudly and weeping like a baby. The elders hushed the overgrown man and took the baby from his arms. The older man tucked a sealed envelope inside the blankets as he laid the bundle by the doorsteps. They all had a moment of silence before they parted ways.

The old man walked towards the unlit streets and let out the lights he had captured moments ago. As the lampposts lit the streets, the old man disappeared with a swish of the cloak, while the fate of the baby by the doorsteps was yet to be changed… again.

Vernon Dursley kept one sleepy eye shut as his wife, Petunia, lay snoring beside him. He wanted to go back to his peaceful, dreamless slumber but he knew he had to wake up if he was to leave the house early that day. He silently crawled out of bed so as not to wake Petunia up and crept out the bedroom door. He dared not even open the door that led to room of his young son, Dudley, in fear that he might wake his pride and joy.

He did not want his morning to be spoiled, for a ruined morning might result to a ruined day. The past few days had almost been horrible for him. He had been hounded by these odd folks –as his wife, Petunia called them– and certain goings-on that just left him with a bad mood. But Grunnings, the company he worked for, had been doing quite well for the past few months. He did not want to sabotage their lucky streak and therefore he tried to shake as much of the bad off himself as he could. Besides, an early start to the morning would not hurt him.

He made a quick breakfast of coffee and a peanut butter sandwich. When dawn broke, he headed out the door to get the newspaper and to put out the milk bottles. Instead of finding his morning paper, he held in his cries or horror at the sight of the blanketed bundle by his doorstep.

With shaking hands he unfurled the blankets. He found a baby with black tousled hair and a curious little scar on his forehead, fisting the corner of a half-crumpled envelope. There was no doubt that the baby belonged to his wife's sister, Lily Evans Potter, for it resembled Petunia's description of her sister's husband. And there was no way he would let the spawn of someone so weird live with his normal family.

Without even reading the letter, Vernon Dursley crumpled the envelope into the pocket of his bathrobe and chucked the bundle into the back seat of his car. Still in his bathrobe and pajamas, he rolled the car out the driveway instead of starting it, so as to not wake his wife or their neighbors, and turned the engine on when he reached the streets.

He drove maniacally throughout Surrey, wondering where best to drop off the burden of his life. He drove for what seemed like hours and sweated bucket-loads of perspiration. Like a miracle out of the blue he found an orphanage just outside of the city limits. Without even knocking at their doors, he dropped the bundle by the doorstep and drove out of the neighborhood at a lightning fast speed.

He drove home as quickly as he could and threw out the letter somewhere between the orphanage and home. He parked the car by the pavement, ran into his house and quietly headed up the stairs. He stepped into the bathroom and changed into his work clothes. As he picked a hideous-looking orange tie and matching cufflinks, he heard a shuffling behind him.

"Honey," greeted Petunia sleepily, her hair wrapped in soft curlers. "Did you wake up early?"

"Yes, dear," answered Vernon, stray droplets of sweat crawled down either side of his face.

"I should have known, you have showered already. Have you eaten breakfast?"

"Yes," he said as he put on his tweed coat. "Some coffee and a sandwich."

"Oh. Do you want me to cook you--"

"No!" exclaimed Vernon absentmindedly. "I mean, you do not have to cook for me, dear. I am quite full actually."

"Is anything wrong then?" she asked. "You seem a little jittery at the moment."

"It is nothing. I am just fine."

"Did you take the car out this morning? I thought I heard it start."

"I did."

"Why?"

Vernon stuttered his answer. "I don't know really. I---"

"Oh, that's fine," she answered. She straightened his tie for him and shook the lint off his shoulders. "Alright, honey. Have a nice day at work."

Petunia gave Vernon a kiss on the cheek before allowing him to leave. Vernon headed for work, relieved that he could go back to his normal Muggle life.

_

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_

November 1982 – A year later:

* * *

A young couple held each other's hands as they sat inside the cubicle of an adoption agency, their sons sitting on the carpet right by their feet. The young mother pulled a loose curl off her face and hid it behind her ears before gathering her younger soon-to-be-real son into a warm embrace. The dark-haired boy resisted her show of affection at first, but eventually hugged her in return. Her real son walked towards his father's knees and climbed on his lap.

"I am so happy it is almost over," said the young mother. "It has been such a long process."

"It has been," agreed her husband. "We will soon find out if it has been well-worth it." He gave her a mischievous grin before lifting his nose proudly in the air.

For months they had gone through many adoption agencies, went through endless assessments and signed about a mountain-high pile of paperwork. And even after having the baby in their home, they still had to undergo training sessions and never-ending home visits by the social services. It had been rather intrusive to their family, especially since Mr. and Mrs. Chase were wizards who did not want to be found out.

At first the boy seemed to have rejected them, but eventually, he took them as his own. He got along well with his brother and his parents just adored him. But going through it all was well worth it because the boy was perfect for them.

The boys giggled as their parents tickled them and held them in their arms. But silence fell among the boys when the social worker walked in the room, a large envelope in her hand."

"Mr. and Mrs. Chase. Riley, and Jason. I mean… Harry, not Jason," she apologized as she sat behind her desk. "I have to remember that."

"We thought he looks more like a Harry than a Jason," answered Mrs. Chase. "Thank you very much for everything, Ms. Hafferty, no matter what happens."

"No. Thank you very much to both of you. Our orphans need a good home and yours is the best one for Jason, er… Harry, in my opinion. Hopefully, the adoption board feels the same way."

She pulled out a large sealed envelope and placed it on top of her desk.

"Here is the envelope that contains the Adoption Board's decision on whether I should give you the adoption order or not. May I have the pleasure of opening it for you?"

"Yes," answered the couple, a look of worry and excitement painted across their faces.

The social worker slid her finger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out a few pieces of paper. She scanned the paper, hiding any expressions that would reveal the result.

"I am happy to say congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Chase. The Adoption Board has approved the adoption order. You are now the proud parents of Harry."

The young couple –their sons in their arms– jumped in glee at the announcement. Tears poured from the mother's eyes as she hugged their social worker.

"Thank you very much, Miss Hafferty!" said Mrs. Chase as she shook the social worker's hand. "Thank you!"

"Congratulations, Mrs. Chase."

When the couple had calmed down and taken their seats, Ms. Hafferty handed each of them a pen and the paper she had pulled out of the envelope. "Now, if you will please sign here, here and here, Harry will officially be your son."

Mr. Chase took his new family out for a celebration dinner in one of the finest Wizard-owned Muggle restaurants in London: The Illusions Cafe. Once they were seated, they scanned through the menu and decided on the boys' meals before their own.

"I think Riley and Braden would enjoy some Fettuccini," suggested Bethany. "What are you having, Ranco? I am torn between the Blackened Salmon and the Filet Mignon."

"Anything you like, dear. You can have both if you want."

"Ranco! Respectable ladies do not eat that much."

"It is a special occasion, Bethany. I am sure you will be forgiven. Besides---"

"Blackened Salmon then."

"I think I just might have the same," answered her husband with a smile on his face. "Would you prefer white or red wine?"

"White wine would be nice."

"Good evening Mr. Chase, Mrs. Chase," greeted a waiter. "Welcome to the Illusions Cafe. My name is Aaron and I will be your waiter for this evening. How may I help you tonight?"

"My wife and I would each like an order of the Blackened Salmon. Extra vegetables, please. Our sons will have a small bowl of Fettuccini and a glass of apple juice each. And bring us a bottle of the best white wine you have."

"You got it sir."

"And tell old Charlie that his old friend, Ranco, is here."

"He will get the message, sir. I will be back shortly with your order."

When the waiter left their table, Ranco and his wife occupied themselves with the boys. When Ranco glanced up, a couple from across the room who were being waited upon motioned at him. When their waiter left, they carried their young son with them and moved towards the table adjacent to theirs.

"Well, well," said the man eagerly. "Ranco Chase! How long has it been?"

"Too long, cousin," answered Ranco as he shook his hand. "How have you been, Lucius? Narcissa?"

"We are doing fine," answered Narcissa as she gave him a weak smile. "This our son, Draco."

"This is my son Riley and my new adopted son, Harry."

"Curious," said Lucius as he lifted the boy's forehead. "Is he _the _Harry?"

"The-Boy-Who-Lived himself."

"My, my, my… how did you find him? I thought Dumbledore would have hidden him from everyone by now."

"Well," he whispered, "the Master still had prying eyes everywhere even after he was--- you know?" Ranco raised an eyebrow. "And the news of Potter's whereabouts reached my ears."

"How did you get a hold of him?"

"Let's just say that Muggles are easier swayed than Wizards."

"What are you planning to do with this child then? I hope you know that you will have no better success destroying him than our Master had."

"Master took the chance of trying to kill the child. What he did was a mistake. And he paid for it. Thankfully, he had told me of a back-up plan if anything were to happen to him."

"And what is this back-up plan?"

"I am to raise Harry."

"Raise the boy? Has He… you gone mad?"

"Who knows, Lucius? Harry could be the next Dark Lord. He is as strong as the Master, after all."

"No one is as strong as the Master," argued Lucius. "How can you even say that?"

"It came out of the Master's lips, Lucius."

Lucius did not seem convinced.

"Don't you fret, Malfoy. If the rumors among the Death Eaters were true, if we can really revive the Master someday, someone as strong as Harry might be a formidable ally."

"Let us hope that this plan does not backfire, Ranco," answered Lucius.

"It won't. Master gave me this mission and I expect to accomplish it. Like I did with every mission he ever gave me."

Lucius nodded his head in agreement and let out a grin. He picked Harry up and held him away from his body.

"You decided our Master's fate, young Potter. Now we are to decide yours."

"He's a Chase now, Lucius," claimed Ranco. "Harry Chase."

Harry let out an incomprehensible warble as Lucius let him back down.

"Would you care join us in our celebration?" Ranco asked. "Dinner is on me."

"Thank you for the offer, but Narcissa and I have ordered already. But I wouldn't mind sharing the table with you."

"Very well then, join us in this celebration."

As the children ate a hearty meal, the adults at the table toasted the future of their sons and the succession of the next Dark Lord.

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End of Chapter

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**Author Notes:**

I have read the HP Lexicon and I was under the impression that Lily and James Potter knew of the details of the Prophecy. If that is not the case -that they only went into hiding because Dumbledore told them to with no reason behind it, besides Voldemort chasing after them, of course- then forgive me. Do remember that I am not JKR nor am I psychic.

In the book, Petunia was the one who found Harry at their doorstep. And yes, I've changed that. That's just how it goes in my story, k? (Thanks for the heads up, Emlow!!!)

I have also tried researching on the adoption process in England as of the 1980's, to no success. I found the 2002 revised version and yet, it was not much help to me. If there are certain parts to the fanfic that seems unreasonable, forgive me… again.

Big thanks to Sasha (from FA) for proofreading my fanfic.

Please review!!!


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